Metal Gear Omni
by Dead Man1
Summary: Updated 12/23/01 First, many thanks to those of you who have given me feedback both here and in email. Now for some BAD NEWS: Due to an accident involving my glasses I will not begin writing the second chapter for another week or so. Sorry!
1. Prologue

Prologue:  
  
12:02pm 11 May, 2001...Somewhere Near the Nebraska/Wyoming Border  
  
Solid Snake stared out at the bland Nebraska countryside as it zoomed by along Interstate 80. He was currently sitting in the pasenger seat of a black Linclon Navigator, as Otacon drove. They soon would be across the Wyoming border and on their way to a town called Rawlins.  
  
"So tell me Hal," Snake never called Otacon by his codename away from operational situations, "why we are all the way out here in Wyoming?"  
  
"For the same reason we just got done in New York, we have a tip on a new type of Metal Gear."  
  
Snake chuckled, "Isn't this always the way. I wonder what kind of a stink we are going to dig up now. If it's true this will be, what five of these things you and I have tangled with."  
  
"From Rex to Arsenal," Otacon surmised. "That and your side project."  
  
"It's more than a side-project Hal. I promised Raiden I would find Olga Gurlukovich's child. I am going to get him away from the Patriots, and when I do I'm going to find Jack and tell him. He and Rose are going to have a baby, he doesn't need to be living under that extra pressure." Snake reached into the back seat for a laptop computer that had been stashed there. He flipped it open and turned it on. "Where did you put that stuff you downloaded last night?"  
  
"In the folder called 'Patriots'. I got tired of you digging around in my personal files trying to find it, so I started a new file for you," Otacon said.  
  
"Thanks," Snake quieted down as he stared into the screen, reading the seemingly endless ammount of data Otacon had delved up on the Patriots. The Patriots have supposedly been around since just before the Industrail Revolution. Raiden had learned of them during the Big Shell incident, and he had told Snake all about them over the Codec. Apparently they were a council of 12 men who ran the country, and have been doing it for over a century. Snake had managed to get a disk out of Arsenal Gear that was supposed to contain the names of the Patriots, but, when Otacon analyzed the disk, all he found were 12 names of men who had died around the turn of the 20th century.  
  
Ever since then he and Otacon (well mostly Otacon) have been digging deeper into the mystery, and the search had merited some strange results. All 12 names on the disk were those of immigrant workers, all either Irish or Italian. All 12 men lived in Pittsburgh, and had worked for Andrew Carniege, the steel magnate who was insturmental in the establishment of the American library system. All 12 men listed were killed when the steel mill they were working at burned to the ground, and amazingly enough they were the only people killed in the blaze. None of them left any family behind. None of the bodies were recovered. Aside from that, there was not much record of them. There was a record of their registry at Ellis Island, and the usual documentation in Pittsburgh. There's an old front-page newspaper article about the fire, and a sub-sequent letter to the editor from Carnegie himself addressing the tragedy. Lastly there was a memorial to the 12 men in a Pittsburgh cemetary, and natrually the 12 death certificates were on file. Snake and Otacon had no idea what that all meant, but they knew it couldn't have been coincedental.  
  
6:20pm...Rawlins, Wyoming  
  
Snake and Otacon settled in to a small house on Daley Street in Rawlins, Wyoming. The street was near the outside of town, and connected directly to the Interstate. Philanthropy, the Anti-Metal Gear organization that the pair worked for, had pulled a few strings and gotten them access to the place for a month. Their field operation rarely took that long, but it was always better to err on the side of caution. The had spent the last hour or so unloading the SUV, settling into their rooms, and setting up the four PC's and two laptops that Otacon used frequently. It was unseasonably cold for mid-May, 26 degrees with light snowfall. Snake had remarked about the weather to the girl working the counter at the Subway he had visited to get dinner, she had simple smiled and told him that such weather was fairly common for Wyoming. He sat on a couch, eating his Cold Cut Trio and watching the news, when Otacon came into the room.  
  
"Okay Snake, I'm hooked up and I logged in to the Philanthropy network," he announced. "Didja get my Club?" Snake motioned to a small table in front of the couch. Otacon took a seat nearby, muted the sound, and unwrapped his sandwich. "I've read the briefing."  
  
"Well, what's the story," Snake asked.  
  
"Okay, about 117 miles North of here is the city of Casper. It's connected to Rawlins by a little winding stretch of two-way highway, Highway 287. About halfway is Independence Rock," Otacon paused to take a bite of his sandwich. "It was a popular stop along the Oregon Trail, where travelers often carved their name in the sandstone before moving on. It's a historic landmark, but it also serves as a refernece point. About 10 kilometers West of Independence Rock there's a huge power station. A transfer grid, where a bunch of lines from all directions and states meet, and are monitored. Out here they're probably checked once a month, unless there is a problem, and one of the alarm goes off back in Casper at the power company's office."  
  
"Gee, thanks for the geography lesson," Snake began, "but when are you going to come to the point?"  
  
"Okay, okay...I was coming to that," Otacon sounded annoyed, but soon dismissed it. Snake never did like his anticdotes. "Anyway, this transfer station is actually a front."  
  
"You mean, it's not really a transfer station?"  
  
"No. It used to be the largest underground nuclear missle base in the world," Otacon replied.  
  
"In Wyoming," Snake sounded highly skeptical. "Why would they build it in Wyoming?"  
  
"Well for one it's centrally located. When you consider that the average ICBM (Inter-Continental Balistic Missle -Author's note) can travel around the world 1.5 times once it's in space, it doesn't really matter where you have your missle base, but, with it being in the center of the Continental US, it's at an optimal point for land or air defense."  
  
"And you can't get to it from the sea," Snake added.  
  
"Right," Otacon consented.  
  
"So you already eliminate one medium of attack," Snake said.  
  
"Also, you don't have a lot of people out here to snoop around," Otacon added. "Wyoming has the smallest population of any state, just a little under 494,000 in the last Census, it also covers 98,000 square miles, making the population density about 5 people per square mile. Only Alaska's is smaller; 1.2 people per square mile. The economy is mostly agrarian and mineral resource..."  
  
"...farmers and miners," Snake deduced. "People who aren't typically nosy. They usually do their jobs and keep to themselves."  
  
"Precisely!'  
  
"I suppose when you look at it that way, it makes perfect sense to build a nuclear base out here," Snake said. "So where does Metal Gear tie in to this?"  
  
"Well, since the Cold War ended the US, along with other nuclear powers has been gradually scaling back their atomic arsenal," Otacon began. "This base was cut in early 2000. However, sattelite photos have shown that there still is a steady flow of traffic in and out of the facility daily."  
  
"Let me guess, the heads of Philanthropy think that the base is now being used," Snake stopped, giving a faux dramatic pause, "to develop..."  
  
Both men finished the statment in disgusted mockery, "A new type of Metal Gear."  
  
"Yep," Otacon laughed. "So the question is when do you want to go in?"  
  
"How soon can you be ready," Snake asked.  
  
"Tomorrow at noon."  
  
"Okay," Snaked paused to calculate. "I want to go in tomorrow at sunset." 


	2. Insertion

Chapter 1: Insertion  
  
8:52pm 12 May, 2002...Nearly 10km West of Independence Rock  
  
Snake had left a rented Pontiac Grand Prix at the Independenc Rock Rest Area 90 minutes ago. He had effortlessly made the 10km trek in that time. The sun was setting behind the large square complex in front of him. The local utility company called this Transfer Station 31. Now he knelt behind a small boulder, roughly 60 yards outside of a huge power transfer grid. He activated his new Codec. Otacon had developed it for him. It operated independent of US Government Codec Frequencies so they could transmit without being listened to, but it also could access and monitor the other frequencies, as well as pick up short-and-long-wave-radio transmissions. It even picked up cell phones. The unit rang twice, and then Otacon answered.  
  
"Are you there Snake?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm here," Snake replied.  
  
"So what do you see, " Otacon asked.  
  
Snake pulled his compact electric binoculars out of the case he kept them in on his belt. He zoomed in on the station. "Okay," he began, "there's a chain-link fence surruonding the perimiter, it's topped with barb-wire. There's four towers, one on every corner, each holding up power lines. I assume that is the transfer grid?"  
  
"Yeah," Otacon replied.  
  
"There's building in the middle," Snake continued. "It's pretty big. About the size of a small airline hangar. It's got big cargo doors on opposite ends, and there's a regular door on this side. The fence has big gates that correspond to the cargo doors. I think I see motors on them, so they're probably automated. What the hell?"  
  
"What is it Snake?"  
  
"I don't know. It looks like a Chevy Suburban coming down the dirt road," Snake concluded. "It has Wyoming Highway Patrol emblems on it. I thought that the maintanence of this station was handled by the local utility."  
  
"It is," Otacon sounded confused. "The company is called Pacific Power and Light. I have no idea why the Highway Patrol would be out here. How many people are in the vehicle?"  
  
"I don't know," Snake admitted. "The windows are tinted and it's dark."  
  
"Okay, let's look at your equipment before you go in."  
  
"Allright," Snake began to recite off the list he had been commiting to memory on the drive for Rawlins to Independence Rock. "I have my electric binoculars. My multi-function thermal/night-vision scope. My M9 tranquilizer. A Strider model PAB tactical knife."  
  
"Is that the one you picked up in New York?" Otacon inquired.  
  
"Yeah," Snake confirmed. "And my brand-new HK USP SOCOM." Snake unholstered the pistol from his hip and looked it over. He had given his old SOCOM pistol to Raiden in the Big Shell. Philanthropy bought him this one built to his specifications. It had all the trimmings. On-board light, lazer sighting, Infa-red light, an ambedextrious safety and a 15+1 capacity. It was a 9mm just like his old one, and it had a supressor, just like his old one. "I also have this disk you gave me, what's it for again?"  
  
Otacon sighed. He figured he had explained this clearly enought before, but since Snake asked, "It's a tracer disk. It broadcasts a signal from whatever computer you put it in. The base you are going to infiltrate is on it's own network. It's not connected to the Internet, or to NATO Ghost Net, or to the Armed Forces network. When they need to relay data they do it through a satelite burst network. I need you to get into the base and get to the mainframe. I need you to put that disk into the mainframe so that I can get a lock on the frequency they transmit on. Once you do that, I can set the photonic network here to run on that frequency and I can hack their computers and give you better recon.  
  
"Okay," Snake said, "and how do I find the mainframe?"  
  
"I hacked into the DOD (Department of Defense -Author's note) archives and got the blueprints for the place. I'll transmit them to your PDA," Otacon assured Snake. "Okay, if there isn't anything else you should get going. Remember not to kill the state troopers."  
  
"I won't," Snake chuckled. "I have my M9 tranquilizer. I'll just put them to sleep in their car; worse case senario."  
  
"Allright. Otacon out."  
  
Snake drew the M9 and proceeded towards the instalation. He pulled out his PDA and looked over the plans for the ground level. Apparently there was a huge cargo elevator inside the building that led into the underground base.. Snake scanned the perimiter, he saw the HP's SUV over on the other side of the complex. It was parked beside a huge hole that had been cun into the fence. The vehicle looked empty. Snake crept around the fence, carefully scanning as he moved. He made his way around to the vehicle. It was still running, but empty. It's headlights were shining into the hole in the chain link. Snake inspected it closely. The metal looked like it had been melted along the edges, and furthermore, he couldn't find the section that had been removed. He holstered the pistol as he drew closer, stepping thru the sizeable hole. Quickly he skirted the edge of the building, finding the door. It was cracked open. Snake peered into the crack. Not seeing any signs of anyone, he opened it and stepped inside. Once inside he was taken aback. He activated the Codec and summoned Otacon.  
  
"Otacon, come in," his voice had a sense of urgency.  
  
"What is it Snake?"  
  
"Dead bodies," he began, "there must be 10 or 12. Some of them are in military uniforms, some of them are suits."  
  
"Okay," Otacon began, "take a look at them, search them for any form of ID."  
  
Snake walked over to one of the dead suits, who was lying on his back. He'd been shot, right between the eyes. He patted him down, finding a pistol in a shoulder holster. He kept feeling until he found what felt like a wallet. He pulled it out and flipped it open. "Okay," he said, "this guy's name is Walters, it says here he's NSA."  
  
"NSA," Otacon paused, "hmm. I'll look into it further when you get me into the network. Get me all the names."  
  
Snake proceeded to search out and find all of the men's wallets and ID's, calling out the names into the Codec as he did, "Ken Walters...Ron Anderson...Grahm Ross...Gary Stevens...Tony Ridley...Rick Osborne...Scott Stevens...Jim Sanders...Nichole Jones...Jamal Michaels..." right up until he came to the last man. A military officer lying face-down, his throat apparently having been slit. Snake pushed the man over with his foot, and froze, "Oh man..."  
  
"What is it Snake," Otacon chimed in.  
  
"It's Roy Campbell," Snake sounded substantially shocked.  
  
"From Shadow Moses," Otacon sounded as shocked as Snake.  
  
"The same," Snake confirmed. "I thought he had retired. What the Hell were you doing here Roy, and who did this to you."  
  
"I don't know, but I'll look up the other names while you patch me into the network," Otacon said.  
  
"FREEZE," a third voice entered the conversation. Snake put his hands up, killing the Codec in the process.  
  
"Snake? Snake? SNAKE?!?!?"  
  
Snake could sense the barrell of a gun trained on him. The voice that had ordered him to freeze spoke up again, Snake heard a radio sqwak as it's mike was qeued. "This is Taylor, I have one in custody, requesting back-up." The voice was definately femenine. Snake held his breath as he tried to rotate his head to see it's owner. "Eyes foreward," she commanded. Snake cooperated. "Put your hands behind your head." Snake didn't move. "I said hands behind your head." She grabbed one of Snake's wrists as she spoke, Snake grabbed her arm with one hand, turned and planted an elbow in her stomach. She grunted as Snake drove the air out of her. Snake turned to face her, grasping the barrell of her weapon with one hand, and drawing his SOCOM with the other. It all happened so fast that by the time the young lady regained her bearings, Snake's gun was pointed squarely between her eyes.  
  
"Allright," he sneered, "now why don't we start over? I'm Snake, and you are?"  
  
"Alex Taylor," she said thru clenched teeth, "Wyoming Highway Patrol." Snake looked her over. She was 5'7", and he guessed about 119 pounds. She was in good physical shape, very athletic. Long red hair and green eyes. "How old are you?"  
  
"25," she replied. "Just out of the academy."  
  
"Well," Snake smiled, "I guess you must be the one who owns that SUV outside."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well, let me give you a piece of advice." Snake turned loose of her pistol and lowered his own. "Go back outside, get in it, and get the hell out of here."  
  
"I can't do that," she snapped. "I have you, and I have 12 dead bodies. You and I are going to wait here until my backup comes, and then we're going for a little ride." She raised her weapon again. "Now drop your gun."  
  
"You think I did this," Snake's voice contained an air of disbelief. "Answer me this, if I am going to kill six US soliders, four of them officers, and six suits, one of whom is NSA for sure...why wouldn't I smoke a Wyoming State Trooper when I have her at point blank range?"  
  
"I...I," Alex struggled to find a viable answer.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Okay I don't know," she conceded. Suddenly there was a beep, a thud, and the floor shook. Then it started sinking into the ground. "What's going on?"  
  
"This floor is a big cargo elevator. Someone must be calling it down below," Snake told her.  
  
"Down below where," she inquired.  
  
"There's no time for that." Snake grabber her arm and ran with her out the door before the elevator got too low.  
  
"Why are we back out here in the cold," she demanded. Snake's only reply was to put his hand over her mouth. He carefully peered into the door, waiting for the elevator to return. It did so with four men dressed in combat fatigues, carrying M-16 rifles.  
  
"Now," Snake warned, "be quiet." He activated the Codec. "Otacon, I'm back."  
  
"Glad to hear it Snake," the scientist sounded relieved.  
  
"Okay," Snake began, "right now I have four on the cargo elevator. Probably mercenary. They're wearing generic combat fatigues and carrying M- 16's."  
  
"I dug up those names," Otacon announced.  
  
"Now's not a good time Otacon, I'm going to go downstairs and say hi. I'll call you when I'm done." Snake killed the Codec transmission and snuck back outside the fence to Alex's Suburban.  
  
"Are we getting out of here," she asked him.  
  
"You are," Snake replied, opening the second passenger-side door, retrieving a big winter coat. He tossed it to her. She caught it, a look of anger on her face as Snake rounded the vehicle and opened the driver's door.  
  
"You're just going to make me walk," she asked.  
  
Snake reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "Here," he said, tossing them to her. "There's a teal Pontiac Grand Prix parked at the rest stop. It's all yours. Get on your radio and call off the backup you arranged for. Trust me, they wouldn't last five minutes in there."  
  
"Wait a minute, I am not letting you take my vehicle, and make me walk 8 miles without some answers," she shouted.  
  
"If you know what's good for you," Snake began, "you'll get the hell out of here and forget what you saw." With that, Snake closed the door. Alex stared in disbelief as he put the truck in gear, sped thru the hole in the fence and tore thry the corrugated aluminum wall of the building. She looked on behind him as the vehicle struck two of the armed guards. Snake threw open the driver's door, pistol drawn, and squeezed three rounds off, putting them in the third man's chest. He then rolled out of the car, putting it between him and the forth man. The camoflagued mercenary threw open the pasenger door, and then stood with his back flat against the vehicle. He cautiously peered in, expecting to find Snake. Snake dropped to his belly, and fired a shot into the other man's foot. He dropped his weapon and fell to the ground on his rear end. Snake wasted no time walking around the car and putting a bullet in the screaming man's head. He worked quickly, gathering the bodies up. He searched each one of them, finding 9mm Colt 1911 pistols. Each time he found one he disengaged the magazine, and tucked it away into his suit. The magazines were Magnum Research generic models, and were compatable with most pistols, including Snake's SOCOM. Each man was also carrying four grenades, two live, and two tear gas. Snake opened the rear of the vehicle finding a duffel bag filled with officer Taylor's street clothes. He dumped them out on the ground, much to the onlooking trooper's dismay. Snake started back, but something in the pile caught his eye. He grabbed one of the garments and stuck it back in the bag. He rounded the car once more, tossing the grenades in the bag. He took one of the man's M-16's and slung it over his shoulder. He searched each man and got their spare M-16 magazines. He dropped them into the bag. He then turned back to the Suburban, digging thru the front seat. It was this oppertunity that Alex used to creep up to the vehicle and slip into the back. Snake found a Remmington 1180 tactical shotgun under the seat, along with a box of shells. These too, he put in the bag. Finally, Snake went to the trouble of setting all four dead men in the Suburban; two up front, two in back. He took another one of the M-16's. Alex looked on from the back seat, what was he doing? Meanwhile, Snake started the car, and wedged the assult rifle between the seat and the gas pedal, forcing it to the floor. The engine howeled as the tacometer climbed into the red zone. Snake walked over and pushed the "DOWN" button on the elevator control pad.  
  
As the elevator descended Snake pulled off one of the dead men's walkie talkies. Each man had a wireless mouthpiece/earpiece. Snake clipped the radio to his belt, and fastened the radio to his ear, snapping the microphone off near his jawline. He turned the radio off while he called Otacon. The Codec beeped twice, and then Otacon answered. "How's it going Snake?"  
  
"So far so good," Snake surmised. "I took out four guards and I am riding down the elevator now."  
  
"Okay, we don't have a lot of time then," Otacon stated. "Once you get down why don't you find a safe place and call me?"  
  
"Copy. Snake out."  
  
Snake switched back on the radio, and came in on the tail end of a conversation. "...and I get no response from our men upstairs. The elevator is lowering now, ETA 45 seconds."  
  
"Roger Tiger 3," a voice responded. "Have your team check it out, and call me back ASAP."  
  
Snake chuckled. He crouched down to get a peek as the elevator finally hit some light. There were four men, M-16's drawn, standing in close to eachother. He might be able to get them all with what he had planned. He openend the door of the Suburban. Alex watched as he gripped the gearshift. She didn't have to guess what he was going to do next. She quietly slipped out the back of the vehicle. As the elevator landed, all four guardsmen were stunned at what they saw. The last thing they were expecting was an SUV fully revved up. Snake pulled the shifter, dropping the vehicle into overdrive. The tires squeeled and smoked as the automatic transmission rapidly shifted to keep up with the engine's torque. When both matched the vehicle spef off of the elevator and down a corridor directly ahead. Wether it hit all four men or not, it moved them. Snake turned to collect his bag of tricks, and came face-to-face with Alex. He gave her a disgusted look as he sprinted down a hall to the left. He drew his weapon and ducked into the first door he saw, with Alex right behind him. The room was a barren square room. Devoid of any sign of use.  
  
"What the Hell are you doing here,' Snake demanded of the young officer.  
  
"I-I don't know," she replied. "I was just going to follow you and see if you needed any help. You know, backup?"  
  
"Backup?" Snake was furious. "Listen up girl, I have been a solider since you were crawling around the sandbox. While you were jumping rope in the playground, I was plaing hop-scotch with land mines. The last thing I need is backup; and the last person I need it from is you!"  
  
"Sorry," she was trembling and near tears as she spoke."  
  
"Allright, shut up for a second," he ordered. "I got to make a call and think about what to do with you." Snake activated the Codec. "Otacon, come in."  
  
"I hear you Snake," the good Doctor replied. "How did your insertion go?"  
  
"Almost without a hitch," an Snake spoke Alex sneezed in the background.  
  
"Who was that," Otacon said.  
  
"Behold the hitch," Snake sarcastically answered.  
  
"Who is she?"  
  
"Wyoming Highway Patrol," Snake began. "I kind of borrowed her car to help with my insertion, and she must have snuck in the back."  
  
"Oh no," Otacon sounded worried. "You can't be running around with an HP, she doesn't have half the traning necessary for this."  
  
"Yeah," Snake conceded, "and I can't just take her back outside and send her home. After what I did they are going to be watching that elevator like a hawk."  
  
"Where are you now," Otacon asked, trying to imagine a solution.  
  
"I'm inside a little room just off the hall from the elevator." Snake looked around. "It doesn't look like it's been used."  
  
"Hmm..." Otacon scratched his forehead in thought.  
  
"Otacon," Snake began, "since you have the blueprints of this place, why don't you see if you can find a place out-of-the way that's defendable."  
  
"Well that's the problem Snake." Otacon paused for a moment to yawn before continuing, "the blueprints don't actually take in to account what the rooms were actually used for, especially since they have probably refitted the base from a missle silo to a Metal Gear workshop."  
  
"Damn."  
  
"However," Otacon chimed in, offering a glimmer of hope, "if you can get to the mainframe you should be able to tap in to base security and get the most up-to-date security data avalable. Then you can link in your PDA and overwite the blueprint file I gave you."  
  
"Yeah," Snake said. "But how do I find the mainframe?"  
  
Otacon laughed for a minute on the other end. "It should still be in the same place it was on your blueprints. It's difficult, nearly impossible to move a mainframe computer system without reconfiguring the whole base. So follow your map and get to the mainframe."  
  
"Okay, I'll call you then." Snake killed the Codec and turned to face Alex. "You're coming with me. Do exactly as I say if you want to live." 


End file.
